


By the Moonlit Night

by Nat20



Category: Monster of the Week (Tabletop RPG)
Genre: Attempted robbery, BB is a bi disaster and has major Dad Energy leave him alone, Character Death, Gen, a little bit of backstory for my boy BB, and this is his experience with realizing things do go bump in the night, but he honestly thinks it was just a dream, but now she likes to fuck him over and is basically his biggest rival, he is a crooked in MotW but he is trying to go straight, him and Nora used to be a thing, severe character injury, the mentions of the dream come from a thing that happened in session, vampire, well until a vampire tries to murder him but you know details, which is his real dip into the unknown of strange things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22948423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat20/pseuds/Nat20
Summary: Barvin Basile, or BB, is a former charlatan and thief trying to get his life in order and leave crime behind him. Yet a gig that is too good to be true shows up that could help pay off all his debts. Against his better judgement, he takes the job with a young rookie.
Kudos: 3





	By the Moonlit Night

**Author's Note:**

> BB is consistently anxious and a lot of that has to do with the events in this story. Also he needs a nap. In campaign he is 38, so this happened a while ago, when he was much younger.

“Someone slapped you with an old and ugly stick,” Nora said as she sat at the bar. She was wearing her usual around-town gear. A corset with frills complete with a skirt that was shorter in the front that it was in the back, brushing her ankles that were in knee-high leather boots with too many straps to count. She also wore her leather coat, completing her look and her crocodile grin. Her long black hair was up in a tight bun without a strand hanging lose, finished off with a flower made out of thin, folded copper. BB had to admit, she was still as beautiful as the day he met her. He hated to admit that, even if seeing her filled his gut with annoyance. “How's it goin', Basile?”

“First off, 24 is not old. Second off, rude. Third off, its BB now.” He filled up a clean, tall glass with her favorite beer, putting it in front of her and tossing his cleaning cloth over his shoulder. He leaned back and crossed his arms, eyeing her carefully. The last few years had been hard for both of them, but Nora seemed to relish in making him suffer. If she was here, it was either for something or to mock him. The only reason BB tolerated it is because he was curious about what she was going to do this time. “What do you want?”

She scoffed and took a sip of her beer, never taking her eyes off of him. “Just seeing how my favorite charlatan was doing. Looks like you have good business.”

“Not many people drink during the mid-morning of a weekday,” BB said, looking over the empty bar. Thankfully it was just the two of them.

“Done any good jobs recently?”

BB didn't say anything. He looked away to the front window, watching the people walk by. One of the trains went through the city along the rails, traveling rather silently save for the once and again screech of metal and blow of a steaming horn.

“I'll take your silence as a no. Are you seriously that scared of Marvin? Is it because you think he's pretty?”

“As pretty as Marvin is and as much as I like to pester him, I'm actually trying to keep my nose clean.” He sighed. “I got tired of doing crime. You should get tired of it too. Try and get an actual job.”

Nora took another sip of her beer. She put her glass down and pursed her lips together before letting out a sigh and shaking her head. “Listen, Basile, I got an offer for a job I can't take since I'll be busy with another. I figured you could use the money more than me, anyway. I know you are still in debt to that loan shark. Not to mention your landlady.”

“No, thanks.”

“It's a job with little Skeeter. You remember him. He'll be excited to work with you. Anyway, he's spent the last few weeks scoping out the Windgate Manor. No one seems to be home and next week is the hit. Good conditions. Moon will be almost full, I know you like to go during those times.”

“I'm fine, thanks.”

“There could be a lot of good stuff to pawn in that house. Might help ease over some of the money you owe, make life a bit more comfortable.”

“Not interested, Nora.”

“You are a really good liar, but you can't lie to me. Or did you forget that?” She smiled and leaned over the table slightly. “I can tell your already thinking about how to break into that joint, the locks they have on the doors, what security measures. Admit it.”

She sat back up when two people entered the bar. BB looked at them and gave a nod and a wave. They sat in a booth further away. With a look at Nora, he left her to go take their orders, getting their drinks, and returning to stand in front of her. He crossed his arms.

“Is this really the only reason you came here?” He asked under his breath. “You know I'm trying to go straight.”

Nora scoffed and smiled. BB rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.” He leaned forward onto the bar, resting his weight on his elbows. “It's an interesting proposition I will give you that, but I'm not doing that shit anymore. Besides, Skeeter needs to be keeping out of this kind of stuff. He's going to get hurt.”

“If you don't go he's going to go by himself, you know that.” Nora smiled. “Kid's got spunk. He remind me of you when you were that age.”

“What, being young and stupid?”

“Yeah, but also being full of vinegar and bite. Not anything like you are now.”

“Gee, thanks.” BB shook his head. “I can't go. I have an actual job now. I'm doing well.”

“How well? Well enough to pay your rent and feed your fish? How is Butterscotch by the way?”

“He's fine. Keeps trying to fight the moss ball I put in his tank. Entertaining stuff.”

Nora frowned. “I know you want to leave this place. You don't hide it. This city has never really been your thing. What about finding a small village and living there? Don't you still want that? This job could clear your debts, give you enough money to move, hell, maybe even buy a little cottage! That was your dream!”

“Dreams are dreams for a reason, Nora.” He looked at her empty glass of beer. “Do you want another?”

She shook her head. “How bad is it?”

“Why do you care? Every time I see you it always has something to do with the fact you want to fuck me over somehow. So, what is it this time?” He hissed under his breath. The other two patrons got up, leaving their payment on the table, and left. “Have a nice day!” BB called after them. He looked back to Nora. “Is this how you get off now? Harassing me? I'm trying to live a clean, good life and here you are trying to drag me back into the stuff that got me in so much trouble anyway!”

“Name one time I fucked you over.”

“Do you want the list alphabetical or numerical?”

Nora rolled her eyes.

“Alphabetical then. Remember when I was dating Amy? Or what about Bryan? Took a job with Carlos and Justin? What about you framing me for the dog-napping you did on that rich guy's poodle?”

“Okay, okay, stop. I get the point.”

“How much did you get for that poodle, by the way? I forgot to ask.”

“Seven thousand.”

“Seriously?”

Nora shrugged. “It was a good poodle, Basile, what do you want me to say? Sorry you spent four months in the slammer? You were found innocent of _that_ crime.” She took a piece of folded paper out of her pocket and put it on the counter, placing her payment on top. “In case you change your mind, and keep the change.”

She stood up and left, leaving BB alone. He took the money and slipped the paper in his pocket, putting the whole conversation at the back of his mind.

–

Butterscotch was attacking the floating moss ball in his tank as if the plant had offended him. BB watched with tired eyes, leaning back in his chair. He couldn't even remember when he got the fish, but he did remember it was during a job when he was ransacking some kid's room. The tank and fish looked cool, so he took them. And that was how he became the proud father of one beta fish. He turned away from his beloved fish and stared out the window at the rising moon. She wasn't full yet, but on her way there. Actually, every time he so much as glanced at her he always had a strange feeling. He vaguely remembered that dream he had a long time ago. How he felt. It was.... a nice feeling, after the initial fear. He missed it. Feeling calm and... almost wanted? He shook his head. The moon was not a living thing. It was just a fixture in the sky, no matter how beautiful she was. He could at least appreciate her for what she was and not as some weird voice from some strange fever dream. Yeah, he was probably sick that week. It would explain a lot.

He turned away from the moon and at the stack of bills on a small end table. There was just enough money from his job to cover them, but that left nothing for food. Except fish food, of course. Butterscotch would be fed before BB fed himself. That was the life of a father. But even then, extra money would be nice.

BB took out the piece of paper, unfolding it to peer at the writing. Nora's handwriting was always a mess. BB's had a flowing quality to it. Smooth and delicate. Nora's looked more like someone had tied a pen to a fevered squirrel's tail. But he could still make it out. Years of threatening letters helped.

_'Already told Skeeter you would be good to go. Meet him at the below address and bring your gear. Get yourself something nice after.'_

BB groaned and leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. Well, if he didn't show up, Skeeter would have to do it himself or leave the place. Fine, fair, good. Or, he could report the crime to Marvin and maybe get on the law's good side and scaring Skeeter away from crime..... nope, Marvin wouldn't believe BB was stabbed even if BB had dragged himself to the police station with 14 stab wounds. The other option was, well, going with the job then getting out of town.

He looked at the address again. The house was ancient, going down a family line of recluse millionaires. Only had daughters and the youngest always inherited the house. Something in the papers about a horrible genetic illness, but it sure didn't affect the beauty of the girls. No one had seen them except for very specific in-town events. BB always thought the gals were pretty, but he also knew what his league was.

“I have a week to think about it, Butterscotch. So, don't give me that look,” he said to his fish. The beta was staring at him, gulping water and waving his fins. “Judgmental little shit.”

–

“Oh my gods, Mr. Barvin!?” Skeeter hissed in the dark. “Is that really you!? I haven't seen you since-”

“Since the bank job, yeah, I know. Be quiet, will you?” BB kneeled in the darkness next to Skeeter, peering at the large house. The moonlight cast down upon her beautifully, the garden catching the light and the small pond sending the moon her reflection. The iron fence was high, but not impossible to climb. And the foliage on the other side provided good cover from the windows. BB was wearing his usual stuff. Dark grey clothes. Skeeter was in solid black. Rookie mistake. When running in the woods, greys were a better idea, blended in better against bright lights from search parties.

BB shrugged off his bag and got out a few choice items, slinging his baseball bat over his shoulder. He had made a homemade holster-of-sorts for it, specifically for jobs like this.

“In and out, ten minutes tops. Anymore than that and we risk detection if any servants or the lady of the house is home.” BB looked to Skeeter. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I'm just excited to be doin' this job with ya, Mr. Barvin!” Skeeter smiled a crooked grin, showing off his several missing teeth. “Your the only guy I know that could talk money out of a bank and get away with it!”  
“I was caught, you know.”

“Yeah, _three years_ later! Where did you put that money anyway?”

“I hid it in the woods. Already spent it so don't get any ideas.”

Skeeter frowned. “What happened to your hair? And your eyes?”

“Oh my gods.”

“I'm just sayin', you look like you could use a spa day.”

“I could, Skeeter. But let's _focus_ , okay?” BB stood up and slung his bag over his back. “We're losing valuable time and moonlight.”

Taking a few paces back, BB ran at the fence, scaling it before silently falling to the ground, landing on his feet. He waited for Skeeter, clenching his teeth at the noise of the thud as Skeeter fell on his side. BB didn't wait any longer, making his way to the back entrance of the house. The moon cast just enough light for him to use his lock picking tools. A minute later and the door was open. He carefully opened it, placing a few drops of oil on the hinges every few moments to ease it's way. No squeaking. He put a hand out, stopping Skeeter from running in. BB pointed to the floorboards and began to move carefully, pressing lightly on each step. Every time he felt the floor was going to squeak, he moved to another board. Before too long, they were on carpet in the main hall.

“Look at this place,” Skeeter whispered. BB flinched at the noise and glared at Skeeter, motioning for him to keep quiet and to start looting. Skeeter moved to the stairs, taking the side of the banister as the way up before dropping down to the top floor. He gave BB a thumbs up from the open balcony looking down to the main floor. BB turned towards one of the living rooms, taking careful steps and looking at everything on the shelves and walls. Priceless art, vases, ceramic bowls, even some new technology BB had been wanting to try out. Yet every time he reached to take something, he stopped and shook his head. He was looking for a few light things, easy to carry, easy to pawn. As he got closer to the fireplace, he looked up at a large portrait of a woman and a man. He recognized the woman, or so he thought. The picture was old, but the woman looked just like one of the daughters he had seen that one time a few years ago. She was gorgeous, though. The man was handsome, cute as hell, too. BB looked away and focused back on what he was doing. He picked up what looked like a long gold necklace. Good. He slipped it in his bag and continued to take chains, pocket watches, anything loose and small. Even a small silver and bronze clock.

A creak from upstairs had him freeze. BB stood stock still, feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He took a deep breath and reached for his baseball bat, slipping it out of it's holder and keeping it held tight in his hand. BB was not one for murder, but that didn't mean he hadn't smashed a few skulls and necks in his time. His younger self would have said loot then burn the place to the ground, but with time came a calmness and an understanding that murder did not solve any problems. It just made more of them.

BB made his way back out to the main hall, looking up at the balcony. He saw Skeeter staring down at him, eyes wide and mouth open like he was going to speak. BB gave a shrug and mouthed 'what?'

His eyes went to a patch of something dark on Skeeter's neck. BB didn't have a light. He never took one on a job like this. With the moon being almost full, he didn't need one. But she was beginning to ease herself past the point of giving him any useful light and now dipping into much needed cover. But right then, at that moment, BB felt almost happy he didn't have a light. Seeing Skeeter's wide eyes filling with tears was enough. Hearing a guttural, wet pained gurgling escape from Skeeter's mouth while something dark bubbled past his lips was enough. Watching Skeeter being lifted by something and dropped from the top of the balcony to crumple in a still pile at BB's feet was enough. That dark fluid leaking from large gashes in Skeeter's neck and spreading on the wood floor and carpet towards BB's feet was enough. It was was all enough. It was too much. BB slowly looked back to the top of the banister, feeling cold as sweat broke out along his entire body, his nerves screaming at him. He wasn't frozen, but he was fighting the urge to kill whatever did this or to turn and make a run for it.

In the darkness was that beautiful face he had seen twice now. Once at the festival when he was a teen and again in the portrait, dressed in a beautiful nightgown of silvers and golds and blues and purples. Her hazel hair was tied up in a bun, only a few strands brushing her face. The small splash of blood right next to her mouth was, arguably, the thing that ruined the look. She smiled. Sharp teeth catching the moonlight.

BB ran. He escaped into the hallway that led back to the way he came in from. He heard nothing, not even the creak of floorboards, when something sharp dug into his shoulder and yanked him back from the door. He screamed as he felt claws digging into his shoulder, something sharper trying to pierce his neck. He took his bat and leaned his head to the side, slamming the metal bat backwards. He then heard the hiss of pain as the teeth left his skin, hardly piercing it. He shook himself away from the grip, feeling the muscles of his shoulder rip and hot blood flow freely. He spun on a heel and took a good, hard swing at the woman's head. She went into the wall at the force of the hit, but BB didn't stop. He slammed his bat into her stomach this time, and going on a downward strike at her head until his shoulder screamed at him to stop. He took one more good swing and darted once more out the door. He threw his bat over the fence, hearing it snap some branches as it came down in the woods. He scaled over the fence faster than he had ever climbed before and grabbed his bat, running through the darkness of the woods and back to the road. He didn't follow it, keeping just in the shadows as he held his weeping shoulder.

He stopped when he got back into the city, putting his back against the wall of an alley, finding comfort in the hiss of steam and the sound of moving gears. He blinked a few times, not remembering how he got to this part of town in the first place. He blinked again. He was crying. Weary and with shaking legs, he took a look around. Without thinking, he took a few steps and kept walking, dragging his bat along behind him, the metal clinking against the ground. Next thing he knew, he came to a door. He knocked, leaning against the doorway, feeling as if he was going to faint.

He heard faint cursing and then the door was open, an exhausted looking Nora holding a pistol. She was in her pajamas. Or, more specifically, a night shirt she stole from BB's closet that one time and some old night pants a grandpa would wear. Along with some cute duck slippers.

“Do you have ANY idea what time it- Basile?” Her anger faded almost instantly. There was just confusion and, dare BB think it, worry?

“I can't go to the hospital. They'd know me and call the cops. Marvin would arrest me again... Skeeter's dead. I was going to go to my place.... but....” He couldn't finish his sentence. He could hardly see anyway, his legs were shaking. He felt like sobbing or screaming. He couldn't make up his mind. He felt Nora grab him rather roughly and the cry of pain that came from him, but that was it. Everything else was dark.

–

BB stared at the bathroom ceiling. The tub was cold and made out of white porcelain, probably one of the fancy claw-foot ones given how the faucet looked. He always wanted one of these things. He groaned as he reached onto the side of the tub and tried to pull himself up. His shoulder screamed at him, his wounds feeling as if they were going to tear open further. BB let out a pained hiss and fell back into the tub. His head hit a soft pillow. That was a welcome surprise. He turned his head. There were blankets all under him. An attempt to maybe make the tub more comfortable, but the sheets had been dyed with his blood. Someone had taken off his shoes and the jacket he had used to try and keep his blood at least on his person.

He heard muffled conversation. He tried to sit up again, finding that was an impossible task. So he laid there and tried to listen. The voices were getting louder until they were right outside the bathroom door.

“I'm telling you, I think a dog got him, it looks horrible.” Nora's voice. He recognized the growl in it. She was always angry at something. Probably him. Wait. BB narrowed his eyes. He was in Nora's house. He tried to sit up again, frantically looking for a window to jump out of. No luck. He fell back into the tub again and tried to keep quiet despite the pain. Well. This is it. This is how he dies. 24 years young and facing death's immortal grip.

“Must have been one hell of a dog if he ran all the way from the Windgate Mansion to here. That thing is two miles away.”

“He said Skeeter died but there's no burglary reports about it or a reported death.”

“Do you think...?”

“Basile? Really? Have you _met_ him?”

“He's killed before.”

“Yeah, but that was when Basile was young and stupid, according to himself. Besides, he would never hurt Skeeter. Hell, Basile would never hurt me and look what I've done to him for all these years. He respects the code. We don't target each other like that.”

“Nora.... what do you want me to even do?”

“Patch him up. He's really hurtin' and he's panicked.”

“Did he say anything to you after he got here? Other than about Skeeter?”

“Well, when I was draggin' him to the bathroom so he didn't stain my damn carpet, he kept mumbling about Lady Windgate murdering Skeeter. How she had sharp teeth and the strength of a draft horse. I'm telling you, something really spooked him. He was talkin' all crazy!”

“Probably hallucinations due to blood loss. Might have confused a guard dog and Lady Windgate. Keep an eye on the news, and the moment you can, get him out of your house. They might trace him if he left a trail.”

“He didn't. I looked all around and didn't find a trail of anything, not even blood. He might have been delusional, but Basile doesn't forget to cover his tracks.”

“This will cost you. Did Basile find any goods while there? Anything in his bags?”

“Nothing. Must have got attacked before he got into the house.” BB closed his eyes. Nora was always a good liar. Unless you knew her tells. He could tell just by her voice.

The door opened. He kept his eyes closed and tired to still his breathing.

“Shit,” the man said.

“Yeah. Told you it was bad. I peeked at his shoulder after he passed out. It's nasty, Doc. Looks like it was ripped apart. I'm surprised he could still move his arm. And there's these tiny little holes right there, on his neck. You see? I think the dog tried to bite him but he must have got 'em with his bat before then. That thing had just a speck of blood on it though. I already cleaned it off, but.... he fought to get out.”

BB felt cold hands on his face and then his neck. He tried his best to stay as still and limp as possible. He then felt his shirt being unbuttoned and moved to the side to show his whole shoulder. It hurt, but he tried to not let it show.

“Holy shit.” The felt those cold fingers press into the wound curiously. BB hissed and instinctively kicked out, thankfully kicking the tub. He opened his eyes and reached to stop the doctor, but one of those cold hands caught his and pinned it to his chest. BB didn't have the energy to fight back. He whimpered the more the doctor pressed against the wounds. “Good morning, Mr. Basile.”

“Hey, Doc.” BB looked at the old man's face. He was still wearing those large glasses and his eyebrows looked like massive caterpillars. It was a comforting face, if not for the way those long and wrinkly fingers kept prodding at his wound. “Anyway I can convince you to stop touching me?”

“Not a chance. Not until I clean out this wound and get it stitched up before you get infected.”

“Have any bourbon?”

“Nope.”

“Vodka?”

“Not a chance.”

“Well, fuck.” BB closed his eyes and bit back another hiss.

“How you fellin', Basile?” Nora asked, sitting on the other side of the tub. BB looked up at her. She was still in her pajamas and her hair was messy and unkempt. It was cute.

“Why didn't you just toss me in a dumpster?” he asked. Her face looked hurt.

“I might hate you, but I'm not even that heartless, you know. You look like shit, by the way.”

“I feel like it...” BB closed his eyes again and took in a breath. “Is Skeeter really...?”  
“As far as I'm aware. He never came here after you did and I even called into his usual spots. No where to be seen. Must have been one hell of a dog.”

BB thought about that for a moment, staring at a stain in the tub. “Yeah... yeah it was.”

There was silence, save for the doctor getting his tools out and ready.

“Basile... it wasn't your fault,” Nora said. “Skeeter knew the jobs we do are dangerous.”

“He was just a kid, Nora. He was hardly even 19! And I just...” BB squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have dragged him away from that house and onto something easier. Or away from the whole stealing business at all. He was a good kid.”

Nora stared at BB. He could feel her eyes on him. “You know, that attitude is why I fell for you in the first place. It's also why I started to hate you. And why I dumped you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't want to talk about it.” He hissed when the doctor made him sit up, leaning him against the back of the tub. BB stared at the silver faucet of the tub on the other side. “I always wanted one of these tubs.”

“They're nice.” Nora knelt down next to the tub and took off her belt. She looked at BB. He sighed and held his hands together, letting her tie them. She got rope and tied that to the belt, moving to his feet. She had him to where if he wanted to move his hands he had to move his legs. To move his legs, he had to move her. She had sat firmly down on his knees and pressed against his chest to keep him as still as possible. BB took in a breath as the doctor moved to the side of the tub his bad shoulder was on. The man shoved a piece of wood in BB's mouth.

“This is going to hurt a lot,” he said as he took out a bottle of pure alcohol. “Try to go to your happy place.”

Happy place. BB couldn't even remember if he had one to begin with. But he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his breathing. The moment the alcohol touched his shoulder he tried to move, but Nora had him down firm. The doctor even put his free hand against BB's good shoulder, pushing back with all he had. Gods, did BB try to be still. But it burned so bad. It was as if someone had taken hot magma and poured it on his flesh. Tears welled up in his eyes and he screamed past the wood block, knowing his teeth were leaving indents. His jaw was even starting to ache but the doctor got it wedged deep enough he couldn't spit it out.

The alcohol stopped and the doctor let go of BB's shoulders. Then came a sharper pain. BB sobbed as the needle glided through his flesh and stitched up the deep gashes. He felt more blood flow down his chest and soak into his already ruined shirt. Nora was talking to him. He could make out questions. Trivia questions. Oh, he liked trivia. He always did the games in the papers every morning. He tried to focus on her instead of on the pouring of alcohol on his wound and the needle stitching him back together. Thankfully, the questions were yes and no.

After what felt like hours, the doctor finished cleaning the wounds and placed a clean piece of gauze against BB's shoulder, patching him up right. He patted BB's head and took out the piece of wood.

“Damn, you sure did leave a mark.” The doctor chuckled and put away his things. “I'll send you a bill, Mr. Basile.”

“Great. Thanks. If I give you my kidney will that pay for it?”

“I'm afraid I already have all the kidneys I need to sell this week. Yours would just rot in the fridge waiting for a buyer.”

“Comforting.”

BB watched the man leave while Nora untied him.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” she said. “But I want my tub back the moment you feel you can walk again.”

“Thanks... I'll leave soon. Just going to take a nap.... can you go feed Butterscotch for me?”

“You trust me in your house?”

“The only thing of value is my fish and if anything were to happen to him I'd kill everyone in this city and then myself.”

“Fair enough.” She left the bathroom, leaving the door cracked. BB slowly lowered himself back down into the crumbled sheets and onto the pillow. He rolled over onto his good shoulder and let out a shaking breath. He didn't think he could fall asleep, but before he knew it he heard the familiar noises of the night. He slowly got up and packed his things, folding the bloodied sheets and pillow and putting them in a neat pile in the tub. Carefully and quietly, he walked himself out of the house, making sure to engage the lock before he completely left. When he got home, Butterscotch had been fed and there was a note on his icebox. It was from Nora.

_'Knew you always liked my cooking, but don't get used to it. You can still go fuck yourself.'_

BB opened the ice box and found a plate of spaghetti and meatballs. He took the plate out and heated up the stove. As he waited for it to finish heating, he looked out his window. The moon was high in the sky, pass the tall buildings. He thought back to his dream. It always did stick with him, from what he remembered. His memory was a little fuzzy but... maybe there was something to that dream after all if what happened at the Windgate Manor was actually true. Or maybe he was imagining things again. As he looked out at the city, he saw something move in the shadows. And then he saw her. Watching him. He felt his skin run cold and he closed the curtains to the kitchen window and took several deep breaths. He opened them just a smidgen to peer out. She was gone.

“I have to get out of here,” he muttered to himself as he closed all the curtains in his apartment, locking every window and every door. “Oh gods, I have to get out of here.”


End file.
